


1938

by luckys_charm119



Series: The Portal Series [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27828238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckys_charm119/pseuds/luckys_charm119
Summary: This the third book in The Portal Series. The main character is me, the author, being sent through a portal created by scientists to see if their experiment works. Well, it does and I survive, but only because it connects with my subconscious. Crazy, I know. In this book, I meet James "Bucky" Barnes and Steve Rogers in 1938. Here, we explore the adventures we take and how I fit into their story. Many of the events are added in, but some of it will remain the same.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Portal Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036656
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter One

Meeting James

When I step off the train at Grand Central, I realize the portal took over yet again. I’m back in the early 1900s according to the newspaper stand. 1938, to be exact. Just great. The last time I was in this part of history, I fought in the second world war. That was when Harry wanted to ring my neck and Niall tried to get me to stay with him in Ireland. But that was 5 lives ago. 5 long lives ago. So much has changed, and I barely had the experience of the world without war. 

“Happy fourth of July, ma’am,” the clerk behind the counter cheerfully wishes.

“Uh, yeah, happy fourth of July,” I quickly mumble back, still coming to grips with my new surroundings. There’s so many people, sights, and sounds. Of course I’d have to arrive on one of the busiest days of the year. It does make it easier to blend in, but it’s a pain in the ass dealing with the anxiety that comes with portal jumping. I just take a deep breath and try to make the best decision on what to do next. I gather my suitcases and hurriedly walk over to the nearby bench. I take out my phone discreetly as I can, and check the time.

2:28 PM

I have to find a place to stay for the night. I notice that there’s a piece of paper in my purse and I take it out. There’s a name and address written in my handwriting. Thanks, portal. Since being in, the portal tends to supply me with things I’ll need. Sometimes it’ll be birth certificates, or clothes. You name it, it’ll be waiting for me. This time it’s my suitcases and purse. I can’t really complain.

I gather up my things and start to head in the direction I need to travel. People eye me suspiciously as I walk past, and I can only assume it’s because I’m a woman of color in the 1930’s. Lord have mercy, I think as I ignore the looks and continue my journey. I manage to catch a bus, which is interesting all in itself. I forgot how apposed to helping out people of my background was instilled in the hearts and minds of whites in this time. I’m gruffly told to sit in the back “where I belong,” and find a place to reside as the bus takes toward Brooklyn.

“You new to the city,” asks the man sitting next to me.

“Yes, I am. How could you tell?”

He shrugs. “You seem nervous, out of place, y’know?”

I nod in understanding. It’s not like I haven’t been to New York City, but I suppose the anxiety that accompanies portal jumping is radiating off me. I take a deep breath, absentmindedly picking at the dry skin around my thumbs. Shouldn’t be long now. I’ll be at the destination on the paper, and everything will work out just fine. I just need to relax. I’m nudged by the man beside me, turning to face him, I mirror the smile directed my way.

“I’m Bo Harris, but my mama calls me Robert. This is my brother, Henry.”

I look to the person residing next to Bo, receiving a shy smile from Henry. I give a small wave and seat back into my seat. Bo goes on to tell me about his family and job at the docks. He says it’s not easy being colored in this city, and the pay isn’t much, but the Harris family is happy all the same. He tells me his father fought in the war and didn’t make it home. Bo doesn’t mention how hard it is on the family, but I can tell from the sullen look in his eyes that it still stings. He’s the oldest of eight, which isn’t easy in the small apartment they have. He says he lives just down the road from my soon-to-be apartment, and even goes to offer help with my things.

We arrive a few blocks away from our street, Bo and Henry taking my things to carry along the way. The walk isn’t long, it’s actually quite nice, especially with the company. They tell me stories of the places around us, saying hi to people they know and introducing me as the newcomer, and making me feel like I’m at home. They tell me that a couple of their sisters work at a diner named Duke’s, and that I might be able to get a job there. They also say there’s Frank’s Grocery Store that might hire me part-time as well. Henry even offers to take me to Frank’s himself to secure me a position, to which I laugh at the notion, but tell him I might take him up on it. Before I know it, we’re in front of my complex and I’m helping them inside to my apartment. I knock on the door, hearing a rustle behind it before it’s abruptly opened by a brunette woman with a bright smile.

“Oh, hey there, Miss Elsie. We’re just helping out what seems to be the new roommate you was tellin’ us about,” Bo brightly tells her.

“Oh my, you must be Emily! I wasn’t expecting you for a few days, but isn’t this a delight,” Elsie exclaims, her energy catching me by surprise.

“Oh, yeah, I figured I should get here earlier to get a jump on finding a job. It is only Monday.”

“Oh, smart,” she chirps. She guides me through the apartment, taking my things to the room that’s apparently supposed to be mine. There’s sheets and blankets neatly folded on the bed, pillows placed at the head of it. She clasps her hands together and stands by the door. “ It’s so hard finding someone willing to stay with me being that I’m a foreigner. Hopefully you don’t mind?”

I take a deep breath and give her the best smile I can. Her energy reminds me of my sister when she gets excited. It’s a welcomed spirit, as I’ve been away from my family for far too long. The blue of her eyes sparkle, and clearly she hasn’t had a proper welcome to the states. The immigrants of this time, especially the Irish, were wrongly ridiculed and misjudged. It’s a shame.

“No, not at all. I love the Irish. They’re great people, even when they’re a bit too loud or have had too much to drink.”

This gets her to laugh. She goes on to say she doesn’t have a problem with my background either. She doesn’t understand how someone could be judged on the color of their skin, the way they talk or where they come from. This earns her a chuckle from me, as this isn’t the first time I’ve been faced with this situation. If it’s the only thing I’ve learned in the portal, learn to take things with a grain of salt and keep your guard up.

There’s a knock at the front door. Elsie steps back out of my room, the Harris brothers eagerly waiting for us to finish our conversation. I take in my surroundings as the three of them talk. There’s a small dresser by the door, and a vanity desk and chair that sits on the adjacent wall. By my bed sits a nightstand, sat in front of a window overlooking the street. 

“Hey, you gonna be at Rosie’s later? Henry, Shirley and me was plannin’ on goin’ for some dancing,” Bo calls to her as he stands in the doorway.

“Oh, yeah! I’ll see if Emily wants to go, but you can definitely bet on me bein’ there. I’ll probably show up ‘round 7.” At this, I step out of my room. Elsie begins to walk back towards the door after finishing whatever task she had set out to do. 

“Well, alrighty then. See ya around then, Miss Elsie. Miss Emily, nice t’ meet ya and hope t’ see ya later.” 

I wave them off as they head to leave and Elsie closes the door behind them. I take a seat at the small kitchen table for two, her taking the opposing seat. We start to chaat about the apartment, where she’s from, and everything else necessary for a developing friendship. She tells me how she was supposed to meet up with her brothers in Chicago, but only had enough money to get and stay in New York. She was lucky enough to find this apartment and a steady job that didn’t mind her heritage. Elsie also mentions that she loves going out dancing, especially now that she has people like the Harris family to go with.

“So, since tonight’s such a big night here in America, I figure we should take this opportunity to go out on the town and enjoy ourselves. What’dya say?”

I weigh the options in my heads. Go to bed or go out into the city. Decisions, decisions. As much as I want to dive into bed, I don’t want to disappoint her and honestly, I could use a drink. What’s the worst that could happen? I mean, when it comes to the portal, anything can happen. Good or bad. Maybe this time will be the break I’m looking for. Or better yet, maybe something extraordinary will happen.

“Sure, why not,” I reply with the catchphrase that has gotten me into half the dumb situations in my life.

The bar, Rosie’s, is bustling with loud jazz and people excited over the national holiday. It smells heavily of smoke and alcohol, and people chatter loudly over the music as others lose themselves on the dance floor. Elsie pulls me to the bar and orders herself a fruity cocktail while I settle for a beer. She bounces in her seat with excitement as the energy of the room grabs a hold of her. Almost immediately, she’s whisked off by some guy asking for a dance. I wave them off, telling her to have fun. There’s not much protest as I lose them in the crowd. The song “Sing, Sing, Sing” by Louis Prima is starting and couples cheer as they begin to dance. I face away from the crowd and take a long sip of the drink in front of me. As much as I love dancing and having a good time, I’m too exhausted. The past life really wore me down and I just want a break. So far, this is my seventh life in the portal, and I’ve already lived and done so much. All I need is for something amazing to happen to me, especially after the toll the past lives took. My thoughts are interrupted by someone taking a seat beside me.

“Don’t care to dance, Doll?”

I turn to the person next to me and meet the bright blue eyes of the one and only James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. He’s wearing a dress shirt and tie, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His jacket was probably abandoned due to how hot this place is and alcohol consumption. His hair is slightly slicked back, but there’s a loose strand poking out by his hairline. Well, fuck. I blink at him as he waits for my reply, and sit up in my seat. 

“Uh, no, I love to dance. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to ask me to, so I figured I’d just sit here and have a drink.”

“If I were to ask you for a dance, would you say yes,” he inquires.

“I might. I mean, once I’ve gotten to know you a bit.” I look at him with a sideways glance and smirk. He returns the flirtation with a grin of his own. He tilts his chin up, leaning closer to me so I can make out the musky cologne he’s wearing and the scent of alcohol and cigarettes in his breath.

“I’m James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.”

Shit, he’s smooth. It’s making it hard to lie to him. Every time I’ve ever gotten involved with some character or person in my subconscious that worked their way into the portal, it never ended well. I know I’ll be just another problem for James. I just can’t get involved with his life. I’ll only allow him tonight. I have no choice. I have to lie to him. 

“I’m Evelyn.”

“Nice to meet ya, Doll. Mind if I share a drink?”

“Not at all.”

Dammit. Just dammit. I’m gonna break his heart. I have to. I know too much about him. Once I tell him that I’m not from this world, he’ll think I’m crazy, and if I lie to him, maybe it won’t be so hard for him to forget me. I hate to do this, I really do. I take a sip of my drink to ease my running mind, which catches him off guard. 

“I thought you women liked those fruity, sweet drinks.”

“Well, it just so happens that I’m an exception. I like beer, so I will drink beer if I damn well please,” I enunciate each word as I normally would when I’m being a smarts, this time being like any other.

He laughs and puts his hands up in defense. “My apologies, Doll. I meant nothin’ by it. Just not used to many ladies drinkin’ beer.”

I grin once I get an idea and flag down the bartender, getting us both some whiskey. Irish, of course. James just watches in shock as I take a drink of my whiskey. Once I’ve set down my glass, I look back at him with the same grin plastered on my face.

“I happen to like stronger drinks as well, just in case you were wondering.”

We just end up smiling at each other, and eventually he takes a sip of his own glass of whiskey. James lifts an eyebrow, maintaining a playful smirk. I end up biting my lip to contain my amusement and I begin to take in how he looks. The lights cast a golden hue over his eyes and create a halo around his head, almost as if the sun is settled right behind him. The song that’s currently playing is nearly done, but the energy has yet to drop. Everyone is in a good mood and even I’m starting to feel uplifted. 

“Hey, I’d hate to put this on you, but my best friend is left at our table. I was just suppose’ta grab us another drink, but you grabbed my attention. Would you mind if we took this over to my table with him?”

Best friend? Steve. Oh, my god. He just left pre-serum Steve unattended? What if something happens to him? He could end up choking on his drink and dying, if we don’t hurry back. Also, wait. What’s today? Fourth of July. It’s his birthday today. I’m only half paying attention to James now, but he continues speaking anyway.

“It’s his birthday, and I got caught up chatting with a girl. What an ass I am.”

“No, no. I shouldn’t have kept you, but I wouldn’t mind joining you guys,” I muster out with a soft smile.

He looks a little relieved, meanwhile I’m choking back a string of apologies and left out truths. I shouldn’t take this any further, especially since I’ve already lied about who I am. Now he wants me to meet Steve and then I’ll be lying to the both of them. Oh, my god. I’m lying to these poor baby angels. I’m such a heathen. 

“Well,” he begins to say, standing up and offering me his arm. “Shall we?”

I give a half laugh and stand up with him, grabbing his arm, my drink and belongings in the process. He pulls me of to a different part of the building closer to the music. In the back corner booth, sits little Steve who’s looking around, probably waiting for Bucky to come back and get back soon. He pushes his hair out of his eyes as he tries to continue to sketch in his notebook. 

“Hey, Punk. Sorry it took so long, I just got to talkin’ to this lovely lady.”

Steve looks up to him then over to me. He seems alarmed, but I watch as they exchange looks. He gives a small smile and scoots over in the booth to allow Bucky to sit next to him, me taking a seat across from them. Steve clears his throat and offers me a hand to shake.

“Hi, I’m Steve.”

“Uh, Evelyn.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say with a big smile. “James said it was your birthday, so happy birthday.”

Both of them look at me, James with a stunned look and Steve with a joking smile. The blush creeps up Bucky's neck to his ears and cheeks. His eyes become more defined, the arctic blue being slowly filled with the black of his pupils. It’s either from the drink in his hand, or maybe, it’s from in terracing with me. James has his lips slightly opened, as if to say something, but words don’t fall out. Steve deems this a worthy conversation by closing his sketchbook. Sitting up straighter, he smiles at me with a bright grin.

“Well, James, is right. It is, thank you.”

James nudges Steve in the side, which causes him to laugh. I sit there a little confused, until I realize that I called him James instead of Bucky. Of course I’d make a fool of myself. I’ve just always liked his name. There’s nothing wrong with his nickname, but James really does suit him. It makes him more masculine than he already is. Besides, it’s rare that he gets called it, I’m aware. At the epiphany, I stumble through my apology.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“It’s alright, Doll,” he chuckles out. “It’s just that not many people call me James, but I’ll make an exception.”

James winks at me, and Steve continues to laugh at the situation. It’s my turn to sit there stunned. Bucky is clearly enjoying himself as he maintains a smirk while he takes a sip of his whiskey, eyeing me down in the process. I decide to look away before I melt, and I realize “I’ll Be Seeing You” by Billie Holiday begins to play. As much as I know I shouldn’t, I want to dance with Steve. It’s something he truly deserves, a dance with someone as he is.

“Hey, Steve. Mind if I steal you for a dance,” I ask the timid blonde.

“Me? Oh, I can’t, I mean, I don’t know how really to,” He stumbles out. “You’re Buck’s date anyhow, I couldn’t.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s your birthday. You deserve a dance, especially since it’s the only thing I can give.”

Steve looks to James, who’s just as startled, before James gives him a nod and gets up to let him out of the booth. Steve looks to the both of us before getting out. I follow suit and look to James.

“Can’t deny a lady a dance, Stevie,” James assures Steve with a pat on his back.

Steve gives a nervous laugh and offers me his hand. I smile while taking his hand and pull him toward to the other slow dancing couples. Steve is unsure of what to do next, so I show him where to put his right hand and grab his left. I nod to him, making sure he’s alright, and receive a nod in return. I begin to sway and he immediately drops his focus to his feet.

“Hey,” I say, grabbing is attention. His eyes swarm with fear and anxiety, but I give him a smile. “It’s okay if you step on my toes. Just keep your eyes on me and let the music carry you.”

He looks over my shoulder, presumably to James who’s still seated at the booth. He must find what he’s looking for because he looks back to me, offering a bright smile. I just make out the blush on his cheeks and grin back at him.

“Not many dames, I mean-” he clears his throat, “-women offer to dance with me.”

“That’s not fair. Everyone deserves to dance once in a while.”

“Well,” he begins begrudgingly. “Many of them just see my size. They don’t wanna dance with someone they might step on.” 

Just then, I feel him step on my toes. He notices and begins to rattle off a string of apologies, but I stop him before he gets too far.

“It’s alright, Steve,” I giggle out.

He gives an unsure laugh, but keeps the smile as the song starts to end. We make our way back to the booth, and I pat the spot next to me which he surprisingly takes.

“Thanks for the dance.”

I look at him, really look at him. The light of the booth bounces around his face and his mood makes it seem brighter than it is. His eyes have illuminated with appreciation, and I can tell it really meant the world to him. I choke back my guilt for lying so I won’t take things too far with them.

“Always.”

I look over to James who looks fondly at us. I catch his eye, his gaze is strong and steady. I immediately want to come clean about everything. I want to make them understand. I want them to know. But I know it won’t do them any good. I have to get away from them and this situation. Then, I notice him smile, and I want to stay. I wish I could. To drown out my thoughts, I take a sip of my drink.

“So,” Steve begins, causing me to turn to look at him with undivided attention. “Where’ya from?”

I decide to tell him the truth, Rhode Island. It won’t hurt anyone. They both seem interested, saying they’ve never been even though it’s not too far away. I tell them about the state, I even give them more than I was anticipating. I get caught up in chatting with them that time flies by. I look around for Elsie and see her waving to me from the bar. Bo, Henry and Shirley stand with her.

“Oh,” I tell Steve and Bucky. “I think my friends are ready to go. I should be going.”

Steve gets up to let me out. James follows out of his booth, grabbing his coat and Steve’s sketchbook. I realize that he might be doing so in hopes to walk me home. Steve seems just as ready as James does to do just that. I just give a sigh and brace for the words to fly out of James’ mouth. He stands next to me, looking at me with a sheepish smile.

“Will you let me at least walk ya home?”

“Uh, don’t worry about it. I’ll just go with my roommate and her date,” I say quickly as I pack up my belongings. As much as I do want Bucky Barnes to walk me home, I need to remove myself from his life before I get in too deep. I’ve already overstepped by dancing with Steve. I don’t know what I was thinking.

“Well, can I at least call ya sometime, or see you again,” Bucky tries to plead.

“Um, I don’t know. I’m new to Brooklyn.” I shift between my feet with nerves. “ I don’t know what my phone’s number is, and we also just met.”

“Nothin’ wrong with making more friends, Doll.”

“I’m sorry, but I should really be going,” I insist.

“We didn’t even dance yet, Darlin’. Stay for a dance,” James pleads.

“Maybe another time,” I utter out quickly.

I give one last smile to both of the men, and then, I’m practically running out the door. I catch up with Elsie and the Harris family. We all walk to our street, talking about how much fun tonight was and how we should do it again. I’m still thinking about how I left Bucky and Steve. How desperately James wanted me to stay, how I made Steve’s night with a dance. I can’t stay, for all our sakes. I just need to get to bed and forget the whole thing.


	2. Chapter Two

Building My Life in Brooklyn

So, after a night with Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, life goes back to normal. Ish. I look into the job at Frank’s with Henry, but the position had already been filled. I tell everyone involved that it’s alright, I still have the job at Duke’s that might be available. Even if it isn’t, we’ll figure something out. Henry seems reassured, but says his needs to meet up with Bo so they can get to work. We meet up with Bo at the corner of our street across from the store and chat about what to do about my situation.

“Well, doesn’t Shirley and Elsie work at Duke’s,” I ask the two of them.

“They do, actually. Maybe you can look into gettin’ that job instead,” Henry says, looking to his brother who agrees.

“Alrighty then. I’ll just head on over with them and get things sorted out from there.” I let out a sigh out of relief and a bit of exhaustion. I just hope everything works out the way it’s supposed to.

“Well, just let us know if you need any help, and we’ll figure out something for ya, Miss Em,” Bo reassures me. I chuckle at the concern, knowing they’d fight heaven and high water for me.

“Will do. Now you boys get going on to work, and I’ll meet up with you later, okay?”

We say our goodbyes, and I meet up with Shirley and Elsie, who seem to be heading to work now. They’ve got on their uniforms and are talking about the day ahead of them when I approach. I tell them about what happened with the position at the store and tell them of the plan next. They are delighted to help me get a spot at Duke’s so we can all work together, just us girls, they say. When we get there, it’s not 10 minutes later that I have a position and a uniform, my first shift starting today.

There’s a lot going on once the diner opens. Customers coming and going, us waitresses flying around the place to make sure their needs are met. The place is lit up with chatter and excitement. Something catches my attention as I fill a couple’s coffees. A few young women sit behind the husband, probably gossiping about the goings-on of Brooklyn. I listen in as I walk over to adjacent tables to fill their coffees as well.

“Did you hear about what Bucky Barnes is doing,” the blonde asks the brunette.

“No! Tell me! You know I’d love for a night out with that man,” she demands, sitting up straighter in curiosity.

“Well,” she starts, before taking a sip of water. I fill the man’s drink on the other side of their table. “I heard he was lookin’ for a girl he met last night, but it turns out she didn’t give him her real name since no one’s heard of her.”

“Seriously? Who could turn down that man?”

“I don’t know, but clearly she’s up to something if she’s willing to hide from him,” she finishes.

That’s the last of the conversation that I hear as I busy myself with other people and their needs. I think about what they said. He’s looking for me, and clearly all of Brooklyn knows about. Word from the docks somehow made it all the way to this end. Apparently, it’s quite the talk of the town because as the day goes on, there’s other girls that come in talking about the same thing. To add to the mess, Shirley is curious. She says that she sees Bucky at Rosie’s all the time, and that he works with Bo and Henry. Excuse me while I go scream in the bathroom. Bo and Henry know him from work? They see him all the time? It’s only a matter of time before someone connects the dots and lead him to me. I try to forget the whole mess by carrying on with my work.

As the few weeks fly by with me working at Duke’s, I get to know Elsie and the Harris family. They’ve seemed to adopt me into their family, and not a day goes by that I don’t see them. I even go with them to church on Sundays. It becomes a pattern of work, family, and church in my time in Brooklyn. As fate would have it, this particular Sunday is different. I wake with a hole in my heart, my soul torn apart by things of the past unspoken. I try my hardest to ignore it all and carry on without a care, but one can only do that for so long. By the time we make it to church that morning, I’m a shell of who I normally am. 

After one of the most beautiful renditions of “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” I’m given the song I didn’t realize I needed the most; “Amazing Grace.” The first singer comes out of the choir, starting the song off so sweet and gentle. Her voice is as powerful as the wind of a stormy gale, as it whips around the sanctuary, but it comes out as a breeze brushing against the grass and flowers of a meadow I was once in. It hits me, then. Every emotion I’ve been trying to hide comes bubbling up in my cheeks, hitting my tear ducts. 

Amazing Grace

How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I was once lost, but now am found

Was blind, but now I see

As the next verse rolls in, the choir begins to back up the lead singer. The woman that sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” joins in with her own affirmations and praises, singing with the spirit to cut through my soul. The voices are met with some people in the audience saying, “Amen” and “Hallelujah.” I’m overcome with sorrow, but security of the people around me. I finally let go of the loneliness that rotted my being for too long. I find the strength I need the most when the next verse is ushered in.

Through many dangers

Toils and snares

I have already come

’Twas grace that brought me safe thus far

And grace will lead me home

A sob leaves my throat before I can catch it. I suddenly find peace in where I am, knowing that I’ve found steady ground. I feel a sturdy hand rub my back, then realize it’s Mama Harris. I look into her eyes and am met with a comforting reassurance. When she presumably sees the hurt in my eyes, she pulls me into her chest and rocks steadily. She sings only to me now. She continues to rub my back, trying to irradiate the crippling pain I hold.

“Shh, baby. Let it go. You’re home now, child.”

After service, I’m holding onto Mama Harris as the others trail behind us on the way home. We don’t speak about what’s wrong. I know that she probably isn’t going to ask, but she’ll provide the motherly touch I need. When we make it back to the house, her, Shirley and I head to the kitchen to start on dinner. I tell them that I’ve been happy since being in Brooklyn, but that I miss my family and that I’m a bit homesick. I tell them that there’s personal things weighing me down, but after today, I’ve found comfort in their presence. They reassure me that they’re always there for me when I need them, my gratitude given back to them with hugs and soft smiles.

I know now that tomorrow is a new day. To start over. To begin again. When I show up to Duke’s the next morning, I feel lighter still. It seems to fly by, and before I know it, it’s lunch. I notice most of the other customers are taking care of, except one. I walk up to the table where the customer is reading this morning’s paper. I sigh, getting ready to greet yet another patron and getting out my pad for their order.

“ Good morning. Welcome to Duke’s. I’m Emily, I’ll be your waitress. How can I help you?”

“So, it’s Emily, not Evelyn,” a familiar voice replies, putting down the newspaper and revealing James. “Did you really think I would let you go?”

I don’t know what to say and I don’t know whether I’m flattered or worried. I stare at him and he stares right back. I genuinely don’t know what to do. It’s been 3 weeks, at least, since I met him and Steve. I remember the gossip I heard the next day, but I didn’t hear anything else after that. I must have been so caught up with work I didn’t notice. Not that that’s surprising. Mama Harris said that I needed to get out and go dancing with the eldest Harris children. I told her that I didn’t have time for it, nor was I ready for any dating. Maybe I’ve been avoiding James, since I subconsciously knew he’d be at Rosie’s.

“Would you like some coffee,” is all I can manage to query.

We sit across from each other, both of us not saying a word. We sip on our cups of coffee, the ceramic clinking on the table every so often being the only noice between us. I do feel really guilty. I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have ignored the gossip. I shouldn’t have not gone out to find him where I left his poor self. I should’ve done what he’s been doing, went after the person you can’t shake. I hear him sigh after some time has passed.

“Why did you feel the need to lie to me?”

I finally look up from my coffee and realize he’s been looking at me. There’s a shadow behind his face. Looking for me has clearly taken a toll on him. James has been genuinely trying to get to me for reasons I can only imagine. He fidgets across from me, playing with the napkin beside his coffee cup. His eyes shine with determination, a vibrant and dark blue swarming with questioning intention. His hair isn’t as well put together as the night I met him, less gel and more loose strands. His biting his lip with nerves, waiting for my reply.

“I’m trying to protect you from the truth. If I told you everything, you’d have me locked up in a psych ward.” I look away, ashamed at the situation and what I just told him. I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I’m sorry I lied, but I can’t get involved with you.”

“That’s not good enough. I spent weeks looking for someone who didn’t exist, only to find her exactly where I left her. Tell me the truth, Emily. I deserve that much,” he demands, lighting a cigarette to rid the stress and exhaustion.

“Why does this matter so much to you?”

“You came into my life, you danced with my best friend without a second thought or judgement, and you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He takes another hit off the cigarette, exhaling away from me with a deep sigh. “You can’t blame me for wanting to chase after you, even if I lost my mind along the way.”

I stare at him for a minute, still in awe of what he’s done to get to me. Anyone crazy or stupid enough to go running around probably all of Brooklyn just to find me is being genuine about wanting me. I know he’s no idiot, so he must be crazy, and apparently crazy about me. Damn. What am I getting my dumbass into? What the hell. I’ll roll the dice with this one. If I’m lucky, things will work out differently. A smile creeps its way onto my face and I give into the pleading look on his face.

“Fine, Barnes, you win. But just know, I’m going to tell you the craziest things.”

“I’m all in, Doll,” he throws back at me with the same flirty smile he gave me the night we met.

I tell him as much as I can without what I know about him. I mention that I might know things about him, but he says it doesn’t matter. I tell him I’m surprised he doesn’t think I’m crazy, to which he replies with a sarcastic remark of, “it explains a lot, Doll. I’d try to hide too, if I were as nuts as you.” I kick his shin under the table, but we’re both laughing. I try to assure him that it won’t be easy, if he wants to run, he can. He stares at me blankly, both of us knowing he’s done too much to let me go now. I tell him I need to get back to work, and he says he does too. I tell him to met me here after his shift ends, which is before mine does, and he can walk me home.

Once he leaves, I try to busy myself so the time can go by faster. I’m sure he’s doing the same thing, as we’re both eager to see each other again. Before I know it, it’s closing time. I wave off the girls by saying I have someone walking me home. They obviously want to know more, but I tell them I’ll chat with them in the morning. They begrudgingly leave, and I gather the rest of my things before calling a goodbye to the owner and heading out myself. I smell the smoke before I hear him call out to me. We give each other smiles that’d put the setting sun to shame, the light of it behind him and illuminating me. I take his arm in mine and lead him towards my apartment. On the way, we chat about how our days went following our meeting at lunch.

“Where’s Steve,” I mention the blonde’s absence as we slowly make our way towards my street. Neither of us are in a rush to say goodbye, but I’m still concerned about him having to be somewhere other than right beside me.

“Well, he was at work, but he should be home by now.”

“Do you live together?”

He nods his head somberly. “Yeah, ever since his ma passed away, I’ve been looking after him. Makes rent a bit easier, too,” he finishes with a shrug of his shoulders.

“That’s sweet of you, taking him under your wing,” I softly say, rubbing the arm I’m holding onto in reassurance.

“Yeah, well, he certainly doesn’t make it easy. He’s always getting into fights because someone said or did something awful,” he tells me with a chuckle and shake of his head. “I mean, his heart’s in the right place, but he physically shouldn’t be pickin’ fights with people twice his size. He’s gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

We both laugh at the comment, knowing full well Steve might actually give him a heart attack one day. Steve in this state should so not be doing what he’s doing, but it’s Steve. I wouldn’t change that for the world. He taught me how to remain strong and how to keep moving forward no matter what. He taught me to never let anyone push me in the wrong direction and to always use your best judgement in every situation. His strength and determination rubbed off on me, and it’s the only reason I’ve made it this far. I owe him everything.

Before we realize it, we’re in front of my apartment complex. I stop us at the steps to the door, but don’t make a move to go inside. I look to him and I can tell he understand that this is the end of our journey. I give him my best smile, thank him for the walk back, and tell him I’ll see him again soon. He doesn’t seem to have the words to say. I don’t really need him to say anything since this has been a delight in itself. I give his left hand a squeeze, saying goodnight, and turning to head inside. He calls out to me, causing me to turn as he runs up the steps behind me.

“Would you mind if I took you out on a date, I mean, a proper one?”

I look at him with a surprised grin. He’s trying to seem confident, but he’s fidgety and biting at his lip. His cheeks are a soft pink, illuminating his eyes in the dark of the night, even with just the front door light on. In them, I see a hopeful glint. It’s adorable, really. I reach out and grab his hands in mine.

“Yes, of course. I’d love to.” At this, he let’s out a deep exhale and a short, nervous chuckle. His cheeks turn a darker shade of pink.

“Geez, Doll. I was worried you’d try to run away again.”

“You know too much at this point, so running away would put me in danger. Besides,” I pull him closer to me and look up at him with a snarky smile. “Last I checked, you still owe me a dance.”

He giggles with more nerves and shock at my response. My smile gets bigger, and then, I’m giggling, too. I kiss him on the cheek once I’ve composed myself enough to. This catches him off guard, turning him into a deer in headlights. I give his hands one last squeeze before I let go.

“Meet me here on Friday at 7. We can walk to Rosie’s from here,” I say, looking up at him. His blush deepens, and he smiles while looking down at his feet, kicking something that’s not really there. He nods his head slowly, then confidently, looking back up to meet my eyes again.

“Okay, I will,” is all James can say under his breath.

I smile at his boyish nerves, thinking about how cute and sweet this whole thing is. I can’t believe this is what I’m dealing with, but I’d never complain about this. I’m living every fan’s dream, to be Bucky Barnes’ interest and making him nervous for a date with me. But I can’t help myself from what I do next. I shake an accusatory finger at him and look at him fiercely. The smile on my faces remains, nonetheless.

“Now, don’t you be late, James Barnes,” I start, chuckling at how big his eyes get. “You can’t keep a lady waiting on the first date.”

James violently shakes his head. He assures me that he’ll be here on Friday for 7. He wouldn’t miss it for the world, he says. He gives my cheek a kiss goodnight, and ushers me inside. It’s too cold out for a pretty thing like me, he tells me. It’s July, but I don’t dare argue with the man. Once I’m inside and I’ve closed the door, I hear him turn and quickly go down the steps. Then, I hear him give a triumphant shout that causes me to chuckle. I make my way upstairs, rejoicing myself.

It’s Friday all of a sudden, and I’m getting ready for my date. I wear the best dress I own, thrown on some nice jewelry, and spray some of my favorite perfume. There’s a knock at the door downstairs, Elsie alerts me, and I throw on my heels as fast as I can. I grab my things, rushing out of our apartment and down the complex stairs. I swing open the door, and I’m met with some flowers and a very neat James Barnes. 

“Good Evening, Miss Wolfe. I hope you like these flowers I got for ya,” are the first words out of his mouth. I take them with a thank you, smelling the few roses in the bundle. I turn to the person I’ve noticed is watching on the stairs and wave her down. Elsie blushes, saying she was just making sure he was being a gentleman, before taking the roses upstairs for me and wishing us both a good night. I look back to the nervous man at my door and tell him to lead the way.

Once we get to Rosie’s, we get a table and he gets some drinks. When he comes back, our conversation kicks off. We laugh and chat until a song comes on that he can’t resist. Or so he says. The next thing I know, James quite literally sweeps me off my feet and takes me to the dance floor. I’m being swung around, dipped, and spun in all directions. I swear it’s just because he wants to hear me laugh because each time he does it, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. The song is forever and a second all at once. I almost don’t want the energy to leave.

The night is continued with more laughter, dancing, and chatting away. It gets to closing time, so we pack up our things and start heading back to my complex. We’re goofing around and dancing even on the walk back. My cheeks hurt with how much I’ve been laughing and smiling. I truly don’t care because I haven’t felt this light in a long time. James continues to do anything to make me smile, and before long, we’re back in front of the steps. This time, however, he’s more reluctant to leave. I’m more reluctant to tell him goodnight myself. So, we just stand there for a minute, looking at each other with bright smiles and fondness in our eyes.

“I had a great night, James. Thank you,” I say after some time.

“We should do this again,” James starts off, then he quickly adds, “maybe I can come by tomorrow? Or maybe, if you wouldn’t mind, you can come over for dinner with Steve and my family?"

I nod, and say I’ll be there. He tells me he’ll be busy helping someone at the mechanic shop, and Steve will be at the library, but that he’ll be there for 5. I tell him again that I’ll be there before his nerves kill him. James gives me a shy chuckle, and looks down at his feet, then back up to me with a soft smile. I return one myself, and start to say goodnight before he grabs my face, muting me with a kiss. At first, I’m startled, but then I kiss him back just a sweetly as he kisses me. When we pull away, we stay where we are and just stare at each other with bright smiles.

“Goodnight, Doll,” he whispers, pulling away and shoving his hands in his pockets.

I’m stunned for a moment before I smile and wish goodnight. He waits for me to head inside, and then, I hear him go. I stand with my back against the door, fingers to my lips. I still feel the ghost of his kiss, and my breath is still caught somewhere between where I am and where he is. My heart pounds in my chest and rings in my ears. I’m electrified, and yet, stilled all the same. I feel alive, but so calm, peaceful even. I feel as if I’ve been trapped underwater and have finally come up for air. The chill of the water washing over me, cleansing me of the past, and the air reaching my lungs ushering a newness of hope for the future.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
Growing Relationships

When I wake up the next morning, I’m met with Elsie eager to greet me and to hear about my night. Honestly, I don’t know where to begin. I tell her about how amazing it was, and how we’re having dinner together tonight with Steve and his family. I shyly add that he kissed me last night, causing her to become quite elated. Elsie says that he’s always been the talk of the town. It’s mostly the young people who frequent Rosie’s that spread the word about how handsome Bucky Barnes is. The ladies, eager to win his heart, and the men, looking to fight him for stealing their girl’s attention.  
“You should consider yourself lucky,” she mentions as she takes a sip of her coffee. “There’s girls that'd die to be in your shoes. Gettin’ kissed by that hunk of a man, even I’m a bit jealous. But don’t you worry, I’ve got my eyes on someone else.” At this last token of information, she’s distressed.  
“Who is it,” I ask cautiously.  
She’s apprehensive to tell me, but she exhales a frustrated sigh before she admits her secret. “It’s Henry. Ever since I met him, I’ve been keen on him. He’s such a sweetheart, and he’s just as smitten with me. But, y’know how’d that look? A colored man with the likes of me? He’d be beaten in the streets for it. I mean, maybe they’d be more understandin’ ‘cause I’m a foreigner, but I don’t wanna risk him gettin’ hurt because of me.”   
I understand her worries, as I’m in the same boat. It’s only a matter of time before someone comments on James and me. So, I gather her into my arms, trying to comfort her the best I can. I explain my understanding and assure her that she has my support. I tell her that I wish that she and I were living in a different world where none of that matters. The color of someone’s skin. Something that shouldn’t be a problem. Something that should come as easy as learning how to walk or how to write your own name. How jumbled this world is to have something as simple as skin be the cause of so much issue.  
As the day goes by, we talk about the men we love. These walls can hold our secrets until we can be free of their tribulations. I tell her about my dinner date with his family, which she says is exciting and how she’s glad she has the Harris house to go to since she’s a terrible cook. I tell her that I could teach her since I might not always be around. Simple conversation like this is had until I have to get dressed and head to the Barnes’ house.  
I walk up the steps to the building James gave me the address to. I feel like I should’ve brought something, kicking myself at the fact that I didn’t. I just didn’t know what to bring, and I definitely didn’t want to be late. I’m meeting his family for God’s sake. I take a deep breath once I reach the door, knocking and waiting for the door to open. When it does, a girl not much younger than me comes into view.  
“Yes,” the girl asks.  
“Um, hi. Is this the Barnes’ residence?”  
“It is. Who’s asking?”  
“Oh, I’m a friend of James, or Bucky, rather. He invited me to dinner. I’m Emily, Emily Wolfe.”  
“Oh! You’re the one he’s been gushing over! Come on in.” She steps out of the way to let me in. “I’m his sister, Rebecca. You can call me Becca since you’re probably gonna be stayin’ in Buck’s life,” Becca concludes with a wink, closing the door behind us.  
“Oh, um, alright. I’m not really sure where things are going, but I’m hoping for the best.” I clear my throat, taken aback at her comment. “You said he gushes over me?”  
“Oh, he thinks you’re real swell. He talks about you non-stop. Emily this, and Emily that.”  
I laugh at her comment, eager to poke fun at James later. I’m a little surprised he’s talking about me to his family. Then again, I have been the woman that’s alluded him for weeks, probably stressing him to the point where he needs to rant to his family. Oops. As she walks me into the house and towards the kitchen, we’re stopped by two girls, both of them looking to be about ten. Becca smiles at me, leaving me with them.   
“Hi, I’m Doris!”  
“And I’m Mary!”  
“You’re really pretty,” Doris adds.  
“And you smell nice,” Mary concludes.  
“Uh, thank you. You’re both really sweet. It’s nice to meet you,” I say to the two of them, Becca laughing in the kitchen.  
“Are you staying for dinner?”  
“And dessert?”  
“Can you stay forever?”  
“Will you two leave the poor girl be? Give her a chance to get comfortable before you hound her,” interjects an older woman, probably in her early forties and presumably their mother.  
“Sorry, Ma.”  
“It’s really okay, ma’am. They’re just eager to meet the guest,” I comment with a nervous laugh.  
“Well, I’ll get them out of your hair for a bit so you can at least settle in. And please, call me Winifred or Winnie. “Ma’am” makes me feel older than I am.” “Girls, go help your sister set the table.”  
Winnie stands a few inches shorter than I do. Her gray-ribboned hair is pinned back, but some strands are loose due to her being in the kitchen. Her striking blue eyes, much like Bucky’s, stand out in contrast to the dark brown hair that remains. She wears an apron, which she wipes her hands on from time to time. She has a soft and nurturing aura about her, much like Mama Harris. A motherly aura.   
I’m nervous. “James said that it was alright if I came over, but he’s not here, nor is Steve. Should I come back at a later time,” I worriedly question.  
“Oh, no. You’re on time. It’s those two that are late,” she mentions, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “Probably up to no good, that’s keeping them. They’ve been making me pull out my hair for as long as they’ve been together, and that’s almost been forever,” she urges with a roll of her eyes.   
She beckons me to follow her into the kitchen. Here, the girls set the table and give me excited smiles as they walk by me. The twins dance around the kitchen and me. They're only encouraged by my amused laughter. Winnie continues to finish dinner, and Becca tells me about the seating arrangement.  
There are voices outside the front door, it swinging open to reveal an exhausted James followed by Steve. Steve has a bruising eye and a cut on the opposite eyebrow, a spilt lip to boot. They seem to not notice me seated at the table, as they’re still quietly arguing to themselves.  
“Hey, Ma. We’re here,” James sighs.  
“We’re in the kitchen,” calls Becca.  
That’s when Bucky walks in and notices me quietly sitting at the table, an amused grin on my face. “Uh, hi. When’d you get here?”  
“Well, since you two wanted to wander back on your own time, we’ve been keeping our guest company,” Winnie chides.  
“Sorry, Ma. Stevie got in a fight.”  
“Yeah, it was my fault, ma’am. Those guys were just bein’ awful to a lady on the street, and I had to say something,” Stevie interjects.  
“It’s alright, but you need to be more careful,” Winifred emphasizes.  
Becca steps in, taking Steve by the arm. “Come. Let’s get that eye cleaned up before dinner is finished.” She and Steve leave the room to go to the bathroom.  
“Jamie, get yourself cleaned up as well.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” James says, looking down at the dirtied shirt he’s wearing and rushing out of the room.  
“Those boys could never stay out of trouble, I’m telling you,” Winnie states with a sigh and disapproving shake of her head, turning back to the stove.  
The twins see that my attention is unoccupied, so they come over and tell me all about school and their friends, their hobbies and interests. We engage in the conversation for quite some time before Steve and Becca come back from the bathroom, and James comes flying down the stairs with his hair fixed and a neater shirt on. He sees the twins have part of my attention, so he heads over to his mother to greet her and get something to drink. He even has the nerve to steal a taste of dinner, earning a smack to his hand. James looks back to me, realizing I saw what took place and giving me a sheepish grin.  
We all sit down for dinner once is finished, and the conversation about me gets brought up. I’m asked a million questions, some bold and others humorous. We spend the evening chatting and having a good time. James' hand finds mine somewhere during all of this, and we stay like that for the rest of the evening. This atmosphere is similar to the Harris household and much like home with my own family. It makes me miss my family, but I’m grateful to have this.  
After dessert, I say my thanks and goodbyes. The twins aren’t too keen on letting me go, but I assure them I’ll return. Becca hugs me, saying she’s glad Bucky brought me over. Winnie agrees, saying that I need to come back and try her homemade desserts since I loved the ones offered tonight. I even add that I’d like to help next time, which delights her. I say goodnight to Steve, who says he’ll stay and wait for Buck to return from walking me home.  
So, off we go into the night to walk me home. It’s similar to the night before, us goofing around and dancing on the sidewalk. There’s laughter and more conversation. It’s a peaceful walk home. The streetlights illuminate our path, as do the few passing cars. There’s music coming from some of the houses and the few dancehalls we pass. The air is cool, but not too cold that I’d need a coat. Besides, James is putting off more than enough heat as he has his arm around my shoulders, placing a kiss on my temple from time to time.  
We barely make it to the door before he’s pulling me in for a kiss. It’s more urgent than last night’s kiss. It’s heated, and breathtaking in a different way. I have to hold onto him to ground myself, otherwise, I’d melt then and there. A few kisses are share here, as are a few jokes and giggles. He invites me to breakfast at his apartment with Steve the next morning, even hands me a note with an address written on it. I make a quip about how we’ve seen each other a lot already and how he might tire of me. He assures me that he’d never tire of me, wanting to spend all the time he can with me. Then, a few more kisses are exchanged before we say goodnight and go our separate ways.  
I knock on the apartment door the next morning, hearing soft shuffling behind it. When it’s opened, I’m faced with a sleepy Steve. Hair tousled, still in a nightshirt and underwear, Steve looks up to me with half-lidded eyes. Then, he realizes it’s me and the state he’s in. He goes to explain or apologize, but I laugh and say it’s fine. It’s 6 in the morning on a Sunday, I don’t blame him for still being in bed. It was James’ idea to meet for breakfast this early. Steve lets me in the apartment, telling me Buck isn’t here, probably getting breakfast or something.   
“Okay,” I assure him, placing my purse on their kitchen table and having a seat. That’s when I notice the drawings.  
“Did you do these,” I ask, knowing the answer, but wanting him to answer for himself.  
“Uh, yeah. It’s a hobby of mine. I also draw some comics for the paper.”  
“I draw, too, but I mostly paint when I can.” I pick up one of the drawings, looking at the intricate details and the beauty of it.  
“I have more in my sketchbook if you want to see. I mean, only if you want,” he says, equally nervous and excited.  
I nod, giving him an eager smile. He rushes out of the room, coming back with his sketchbook in hand, already flipping to a page that he wants to show me. When he finds the page, he turns the book to me. It’s a drawing of James. He’s drinking coffee it looks like, and he’s got a newspaper in his other hand. There’s a concentrated look on his face, carefully detailed on the page. It looks so real and life-like. It’s unbelievable.  
“Steve,” I start. I can’t even describe how amazing it is. “This is incredible. I love it. Do you have more? Do you draw people more or landscapes,” I ask excitedly.  
We spend time going over his drawings and sketches. Then, he grabs his supplies and some loose paper. Steve hands me some and encourages me to draw with him, claiming he wants to see what I can do. I tell him it’s unwise to threaten me, to which he replies, “challenge accepted, then.” Then, we just sit and draw. I don’t know how much time has passed, but we both have charcoal and pencil lead on our hands. We both sketch little pictures, stopping to show the other person and talking about likes and dislikes.  
There a noise outside the door, and then, in comes James. He has what I presume is breakfast in one hand and flowers in another. He takes in the scene before him, his best friend and his significant other surrounded by pages of sketches with dirtied hands. Steve and I exchange humorous looks before looking back at the startled man coming into the apartment. James slowly closes the door behind him, placing breakfast down and walking over to us with the flowers still in his hand.  
“What’s going on in here,” he questions.  
“So, what h-happened was,” I joke, Steve, chuckling behind me. “I saw his drawings on the table, and the next thing I know, we’re doodling together.”  
“Those are a lot more than just doodles, Doll.” He picks up one that has my name on it, looking it over. “Damn. This is beautiful. I can’t believe I have another artist in my life. What are the odds?”  
“She’s really talented, I’ll give her that, but she’s not as good as me,” Steve says smugly. I push him, getting him to laugh and mumble that he’s joking.  
I look back to Bucky, who’s still at a loss for words it seems. He hands me the flowers, saying he saw them and they reminded him of me. There are yellow, white, and some pink flowers in the bundle. They’re beautiful, but I mention he doesn’t need to get me flowers all the time. He tells me it doesn’t matter that they don’t live long and might cost him, it’s the smile on my face that makes him never hesitate to get them for me. I thank him, knowing arguing with that is gonna get me nowhere.   
We end up eating the breakfast he got once we’ve cleaned up the drawing adventure. I tell them that we should go to the Harris household for dinner since I’m missing church service. It doesn’t take much convincing, since Bucky says it was Bo and Henry that told him about me and who I was. I nearly choke on my coffee. James says he’s just so grateful for them because they lead him to me. I glare at him, kicking him in the shin.   
We spend the rest of the morning chatting, and Steve and I go back to sketching. There’s a happy aura about the apartment. Each of us is content with the company we share, finally relaxed after a long week. The morning seems to fly by in the comfort of their little place. Not that I mind. It’s a gentle period of time, the most peace I’ve had in a while.  
It’s around three in the afternoon when we get ready to head over to the Harris’. Bucky walks on the street side with me in the middle and Steve on the inside. It doesn’t actually take us long to get there. When we arrive, the kids are playing in the street with Bo. Bo notices us first, waving us over and welcoming us. He and James greet each other warmly, the kids doing so as well. They drag him into playing with them, Steve going to sit on the steps to watch, and I head in to help with dinner.   
Ms. Henrietta greets me, saying she could use the help since Elsie and Shirley are still out with Henry. I gladly start to help her with dinner, mentioning that Steve and Bucky are joining us for dinner. We strike up a conversation on the whole thing. There’s not much surprise in her demeanor, which I question. She adds that Bo, Henry, and Shirley may have mentioned the state of things. Of course, they have. Our chat carries on before I get curious about her story.  
“Where are you from, Ms. Henrietta? If you don’t mind me asking.”  
“Not at all, baby. I’m from Georgia, so was my husband, William,” she hums.  
“Where is he now?”  
“He’s no longa with us, but don’t you be sorry about askin’. The time I had with him was more than I could dream of.”  
Silence consumes the kitchen, the only noise that exists is from outside where the kids play in the street with Bo and James. Steve is still outside as well, but I doubt he’s partaking in any of the physical activities. We busy ourselves with our tasks at hand. I cut the carrots while she peels the potatoes, placing them in a pot once she’s finished it. It makes the lack of noise and the stillness of the situation bearable.  
“We was so in love,” Henrietta drawls out eventually. “We took all the belongings we had, the money we earned and saved, which was not much, but at the time our ticket out, and we came here to Brooklyn. There was a group of couples we met up with along the way, made it feel like we weren’t so alone.”  
She continues to wash and peel the potatoes, a quick and practiced chore she’s had to do for years. As she does it, she hums and sways. There’s no music, but just from watching and imagining what she might be listening to, you can feel it. She’s reminiscing on the past and feeling the history she’s lived. Mama Harris lets out a sigh before continuing her story, wiping her brow with the back of her hand, placing the finished potato back in the pot.  
“We built our little life here, in this very home. Robert came a year after we’d arrived. It wasn’t an easy year, but it was the best we’d had at the time. Soon, the next two came. Then, came the rest. My babies and the love of my life. I couldn’t wish for more, child.” She looks at me with a knowing look, knowing that the man playing with her children outside is the man I truly care for. He is the man that I want to build a future with, no matter the cost.   
I turn away from her gaze with a shy smile and a clearing of my throat. When I look back up, she’s still got her eyes on me, a wider smile placed on her lips. Henrietta gives a huff of a chuckle, going back to the few unfinished potatoes in her pot. I finish cutting the carrots, taking them to the sink to be rinsed off.   
“You’re in love, baby,” she says just above a whisper. I abandon the carrots in the sink and turn to her. She looks at me with a soft, motherly gaze. “You’re in love wit’ that boy out der playin’ with my babies. There ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ love, child. Just don’t forget to remind him that he’s got your heart, and he’d betta not break else Mama Harris gonna give him a-talkin' to.”  
I laugh wholeheartedly at her comment, but I know how genuine she’s being. We begin to finish up dinner in silence after that. Nothing more really needing to be said. I’m falling in love with James, and nothing should stop me from falling for him. Except for the fact that at any moment, the portal could take me away. Oh, and the fact that the war is coming and Hydra with turning him into something he’s not. Other than that, nothing is stopping us. Easier said than done, I’m afraid.  
There’s a loud commotion at the door, angry and concerned voices fill the once peaceful atmosphere. When the distressed group comes into the kitchen, Henry is being carried in by James and Bo, a hysterical Elsie being comforted by Shirley. Henrietta races to meet them at the kitchen table. Henry is placed in one of the chairs, blood dripping from his battered face onto the floor.   
I grab a wet rag, ordering people to get me more rags, a water basin, and some alcohol. I also ask for any bandages or first aid products they can find. I tell Henrietta to get Elsie and Shirley out of the room, they don’t need to see Henry like this anymore. She’s hesitant, but she ushers them into the living room to get the story of what happened. As I’m wiping the blood from his face, a soft hand touches my shoulder. A frightened Mariam hands me towels, staring at her brother who’s only half-conscious in the state he’s in.  
“Thank you, darling. Now, put those on the table and go where your mother is. I’ll take care of Henry,” I reassure her.  
She slowly places the towels down, running out of the room to her mother. From here, I can hear her crying, just not as much as I can hear Elsie, who's trying to get out information on the whole situation through her own tears. A few more moments of hushed whispers and Bo and James come rushing into the kitchen with the things I’d asked for. I throw a couple of towels in the water basin, one I take and replace with the bloodied one in my hand.   
Bo stands stiffly next to Henry and me. I hand him the towel and tell him to wipe his brother’s face. At first, he can’t bring himself to do it. His brother, his very best friend, lies in the chair in front of him battered to a pulp. But, soon, he takes the first few swipes of the towel across his face, and then he finds it in himself to diligently clean Henry’s face. James and I exchange a look, knowing this is far from easy.  
“What do you need me to do,” he asks.  
“Just follow my lead,” I simply state, him nodding in understanding and agreement.  
The next half hour is spent cleaning up Henry’s wounds with alcohol to prevent infection, and bandaging what we can. Bo holds onto his brother’s hand when he shouts in pain. Eventually, Ms. Henrietta joins us in the kitchen, a sturdy weight now in her eyes and clearly resting on her shoulders. Once I deem that I have done all I can to ease Henry, I step away to clean my hands and let the family come into the kitchen to be with Bo and their mother.   
James and I head to the living room where Steve is comforting Elsie now that Shirley has left. We sit in silence, until Elsie, with hollowed eyes and blushed cheeks, recalls what she and Shirley explained to Steve and Mama Harris. Apparently, they were walking home from one of the shops. Henry and Elsie weren’t thinking when they hadn’t their arms linked, and Shirley was enjoying her conversation with Elsie to notice. They were laughing and having a great time one minute, when the next, a group of guys jumped Henry because he was hanging on Elsie. Both Shirley and Elsie tried to stop them, but nothing could really be done until the group left. By then, it was far too late. Henry was beaten half to death, leaving the girls to carry him back to our street. They barely made it halfway down the street when Henry collapsed from the pain. This caused Elsie to scream for Henry and Shirley to scream for Bo.  
James adds that he and Bo ran to where the three of them were, looking at the damage done and being appalled. But Bo mustered up all the strength he had in him and stooped down to grab his brother, James stepping in to help. They carried him to the house and brought him to me. Steve says that he’s frustrated with what happened, and how he can’t believe someone could do that to another person. James and I look at each other, me being extremely worried. He sighs, gathering me in his arms and placing a kiss on my head.  
The rest of the night is spent at the Harris house. We help with dinner and even manage to get Henry to eat a little. We leave the family in the condition closest to stability as we can get it. James and Steve walk Elsie and me home. The rest of the week flies by after that. Buck and I see each other here and there, and on Thursday, I mention that I’ll walk with Stevie to the mechanic shop the following since I’ll be getting off earlier since the owner has personal things going on. He’s hesitant to agree with me, especially after what happened on Sunday. I try to reassure him that I’ll be fine, even trying to get my way with as many kisses as I can give him. Eventually, he agrees.  
Once I get off work, I head over to the office for Stevie. As I get closer to the newspaper office, I hear a commotion in an alleyway. I think it’s just kids messing around, until I hear someone say breathlessly, “I can do this all day.” Son of a bitch. Steve. I race down the alley, the sound of my heels alerting the two guys beating up Steve. They look at each other and nod, one of them staying on Steve and one coming for me.  
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing over here,” the sleazeball asks me as he stalks over to me. “I heard your kind are sweet. I think the phrase is, “the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice.” He lets out a chuckle, pushing me into one of the buildings’ wall. I feel the cold stone on my back, chilling my resolve for this bastard further.   
“Let’s see if that’s the case, then, shall we?”  
I don’t let him touch me by throwing a punch straight to his nose. Dumbass Two stumbles back, shocked and with blood already flowing freely. This alarms Dumbass One, who punched Steve before I punched his friend. As the guy is stunned from the punch, I kick him in the balls for good measure. He drops to his knees quickly, the other guy, now on me. He grabs my arms, so I headbutt him. He yells out in pain, but I charge on him, punching him in the jaw. His friend wheezes out that they should get out of here. Dumbass One huffs in irritation but adheres to his friend. He helps Dumbass Two up from the ground and pushes me into the stone wall behind me. As they leave, I look over and see Steve with his back against a fence.  
I head over to him, grabbing my dropped purse in the process. I help Steve off the ground and in dusting himself off. There’s blood from a cut in his eyebrow trickling down close to his eye. I grab my handkerchief from my purse, wiping the blood quickly. He hisses in pain, but thanks me all the same. Once I deem him cleaned up as best as we can get him, I step away. Steve stuffs his hands in his jacket, shaking his head in shame and hesitating to look me in the eye.  
“Look, I know what you’re gonna say because Buck gets on my case every time, but-” Steve begins to explain.  
“Steve, you don’t have to explain anything. I wouldn’t change you for the world,” I interrupt him, grabbing his shoulders and making sure he truly looks at me. “Honey, you’re so wonderful and kind-hearted. You just want the world to be a different and better place. Do I wish you wouldn’t get into fights because it physically isn’t wise? Yes, of course. But at the end of the day, you’re doing so much more than those jackasses in the senate, who have the availability and the means to do so, are doing right now.”  
Steve blinks, unsure of what to say, then gives a small smile. I probably shouldn’t encourage him fighting all of Brooklyn, mostly for Bucky’s sake, but I really wouldn’t change him. He is who he is, and that’s amazing. It’s so selfless and brave, and he doesn’t even realize it. He just does it because it’s the right thing to do. I know he’ll never do it for the glory, fame, or fortune. That’s what I love about him. I look at him, proud to know him as he is now. I hug him, hoping it’s enough to show him how much he means to me. He’s hesitant at first but hugs me back. We stay like that for a minute before I pull away.   
“Come on. We should go find Buck before he has a stroke.” At this, Steve chuckles.  
On the walk over to the shop, Steve lets out a few coughs, probably from being hit so many times. I’m not doing too hot myself. My hand is already swelling, almost as much as Steve’s eye and cheek. James is gonna kill us. I loop my arm through Steve’s, pulling him into the shop. As we enter and make it over to the few cars inside, we find Bucky still under one of them. I almost hope he stays under there because once he comes out, he’s gonna be pissed.  
I look at Steve, who’s unbothered, and he gives me a shrug. I roll my eyes, giving him my purse to hold as I walk over to the car James is under. He must catch my heels coming towards him, so he wiggles his way out. James gives me a bright smile, until he looks over at Steve, and then back at me. He probably notices my hand after taking in Steve’s state. This sets him off, causing him to throw down his greasy rag in frustration, and standing up with a huff.  
“Are you serious, Stevie? First, you get in a fight, and then you bring her into it,” he asks a still unbothered Steve, who looks to me as Bucky starts to get in his face. I pull on James' arm, making him turn to face me. The anger is evident in his eyes, a scowl pulling his face down, and knitted eyebrows.   
“It’s fine, honey. We’re both alright. He just got in a scuffle,” I assure him, placing my hands on his cheeks.  
“No. I’m tired of this. It’s one thing if it’s him, I’m not-” he starts by saying until I cut him off. “-you don’t need to worry. We make it out alive. Stop raising your voice, James.”  
He lets out a sharp exhale, glancing at Steve from the corner of his eye and still irritated. Then, he looks back at me, and I’m giving him my most convincing smile. It doesn’t work the way I hope, as he just stares at me with his expression unchanging. I sigh, not really sure what to do, but I pull him into a hug anyway. Bucky wraps his arms around me, but I can tell he and Steve are having an expressional conversation since he twitches every now and so often. He lets out another frustrated exhale, shaking his head as it rests on mine, and pulls me in closer.  
“Work was decent today, especially since I got to get off early,” I mumble into his chest after a few moments of silence have passed.  
James chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls away. He keeps his hands on my shoulders, looking to see if I have any other injuries. When he doesn’t find anything, he finally makes eye contact with me, his gaze softer than before. He brings a hand to my hair, placing a loose strand behind my ear. Then, he brings his hand to my cheek, brushing his thumb over it.  
“What in the world am I gonna do with you two,” he asks quietly to himself.  
I chuckle, looking to Stevie who has a pretty smug look about him. We shrug at each other. We know damn well that Bucky Barnes wouldn’t trade us for the world. Even if, from time to time we get on his last nerve. When I look back to James, he has a soft smile and directs it to both of us. He pulls us in for a group hug. With Steve and I make smart comments like, “you’re so soft,” and “sentimental, are we?” Bucky just sighs, mumbling about how he just wants one moment of peace with us.   
On the walk to their apartment, our conversation is on Steve’s fighting. I chime in and say that the only problem is he physically shouldn’t be doing it, but it hasn’t killed him yet, so I don’t see the problem. Bucky huffs in annoyance at this. I add that some things are worth fighting for anyway, no matter the cost. Whether it be love, family, or just because it’s the right thing to do. I explain that that’s the reason why Steve does it, and for that reason alone, makes him brave. Both men look at me, Steve with an amused and enamored grin, and James with a roll of his eyes, though they hold an understanding in what was said. Because why else would you wade through hell and high-water? Love, family, and because it’s the right thing to do.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The First ‘I Love You’

Summer and autumn rolls by quickly. Work and family seems to be the only things that are constant in my life. There is always work, and I am almost always at either the Harris household or the Barnes’ residence. Besides that, my relentless and adoring boyfriend takes me out on dates. We’ll go out for dinner, dancing and exploring the city. We’ve become inseparable. Steve and I have also been pretty attached at the hip. We’ve spent so much time drawing, and saving up for art supplies, and then doing more artwork. James is more than happy that we all have things that keep us together. 

I’m currently journaling, as I’ve always done in the Portal, and writing in our latest adventure. I’m almost finished with the journal I’m working on, so I’ll have to go out and get another one. Christmas is coming up, so I might just ask for that, if someone can afford it. I’ve already gotten and wrapped everybody’s presents. I can’t wait for Christmas Day when I get to share the happiness with my beautiful family. 

“Wha’cha doin’, Doll,” James asks, coming to look over my shoulder at what I’m doing and placing a kiss to my temple.

“Journaling,” I state simply.

“Anything good?”

“Well…” I let out a deep exhale, looking up at him. “…there’s some photos of us I’ve added and little snippets about what happened.”

“You write about me?” Bucky looks genuinely surprised by my revelation. 

“Of course I do. You give my life adventure and spontaneity. I have to write about you.”

“Huh,” is all he says in reply.

“What,” I giggle out.

James doesn’t say anything. He just hums and smiles, continuing to lean over me to read what I’ve written. I go back to writing in the journal, deciding to pay him no mind. After a few moments pass, he pulls me closer to him to place a kiss on my head and tell me it looks great. Then, he leaves me to finish on my own, probably going to join Steve, who’s drawing, on the couch to read. 

Steve has been sketching for as long as I’ve been bent over doing my own art. It’s probably been a few hours, especially since James was still at work when we started. Both of us are just so consumed in our work that time just slips away. Neither of us really mind when we get going, this being the only time we have to heal and express everything we’ve been hiding. 

I decide that I’m finished about a half hour later, heading over to the the kitchen to start on dinner. I put on the record player, needing something else to fill the room with life. I end up singing along to the songs that come on and dancing around the kitchen as I cook. Soon, Buck comes over to help, I think, and then we’re both dancing in the kitchen. I try to tell him off, but I seem to have no luck. I do manage to pull away every now and so often to continue bits of cooking, but I always seem to get pulled right back in his arms.

“Buck, I’m trying to make dinner,” I try, only getting him to laugh and lean in for a kiss.

I give in like I always do, but this time I really push him away. I dash over to the stove to finish cooking, but he follows. James leans his head on my shoulder and sways the the music. He complains in my ear that he just wants my attention after being away from me all day and how I’m being so awful not giving him the lovin’ he craves. I hear Steve huff from the couch, chuckling because he has to deal with this every time I come over.

Once dinner is finally finished, we gather around the dinner table to eat. Conversation is easily started up, and Christmas rapidly approaching takes up the majority of it. I can tell Steve is getting tense, as the holiday probably brings up the longing of his own family, specifically his mother. It hasn’t been easy being away from my own family and celebrating holidays as they pass, so I get it. However, James is enthusiastic as ever since it’ll be our first Christmas together. I’m afraid that he’s forgetting about his distraught best friend in the process of his excitement. 

The weeks roll on by, and before I know it, it’s Christmas morning. I wake up in my apartment, careful to be quiet so I don’t wake up Elsie as I go to put her presents under our little tree. I start on breakfast as well. Soon, she must hear me rustling about the apartment and she comes to join me. We exchange holiday greetings as well as morning hellos. El sees my presents under the tree, running out of the room to grab her own, and running back in with childish excitement.

“I know these past few months have been crazy with Henry and I, but you’ve been such a great friend and I searched everywhere for this. I truly hope you like your gift.” Elsie places her gift in front of me at the table. 

I go over to the tree and place her presents in front of her. We both look at each other with wild grins before ripping open the gifts. Her gifts are a new set of heels and a purse that I saw, and just had to get for her. My gift is a copy of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, and a very nice copy of it, too. I thank her and she thanks me, saying she’s been dying for a new pair of shoes and a purse. OF course, I’ve been paying attention to that comment since I’ve been living with her.

We finish breakfast and promise to meet up at the Harris household for dinner. The Barnes’ family and Steve are invited, and everyone is excited to join together. Throughout the past few months, the two families have become one, making two worlds collide in a way that no one thought was possible. It makes it easier on both mother’s as well, us oldest children pitching in the help the cost of the dinner so they can afford gifts for the kids. Somehow everything works out, and we have a large spread.

Before dinner, though, I meet up with Bucky and Steve at their apartment. I have Elsie take my gifts to the Harris household so I only have to worry about Steve and James’ gifts. I manage to make it in one piece. It’s quite windy and cold, so I don’t really know how I make it without blowing away or getting frostbite. I practically bang on their door, Steve opening it and making way for me to run in. I place the gifts on the table, doing a little warm-up dance to get my blood flowing some. James comes flying out of the bedroom, listening to Steve scold me about not telling them to meet me at my apartment instead so I wouldn’t freeze. Then, he starts to scold me, grabbing a blanket from his bedroom and wrapping me in it. He pulls me into his arms as well, mentioning that my nose is bright red and I look chilled to the bone. I don’t really pay them any mind.

When I’m finally done shaking and my teeth are done chattering, I shrug off my coat and shove their gifts into their arms. Steve opens his first, his being some new pencils and a sketchbook. James then opens his, and receives a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray as well as a copy of Edgar Allen Poe’s short stories. Both boys thank me profusely, and I only respond that I’m just taking care of my boys. 

They run off to get my gifts, hurrying back to see who will get their gift opened first. James wins, but I still open Steve’s first. He got me a new sketchbook as well, which I needed since I’ve only been able to use some loose paper when I can find it. I open the gift from Buck and it’s a new journal. He said he noticed the one I have is running low and he saw this one, thinking of me. I give them my gratitude, and we spend the rest of the morning using the gifts we received.

Dinner is soon upon us, the whole Harris-Barnes-Rogers-Wolfe-Fitzpatrick family gathering together around the table. The kids are eager to open their presents, but the mothers assure them that after dinner they can receive theirs. Around the table, there’s the people I’ve grown to know and love. This truly shows what Christmas is about, family and friends. I couldn’t be more thankful for the people around me. All of them mean so much to me, and I just hope that the Portal doesn’t act up and take me away from this.

As the meal is shared, we are all joking and having one of the best dinners I’ve ever had. There’s such a light and happy vibe throughout the home. Soon, we head over to the living room after dinner, and begin to share presents. It’s not much, but we managed to put a smile on everyone’s face, even Steve. The kids separate from the group with their gifts, leaving us adults to laugh and share stories. However, there’s one person missing from the uplifted group.

Steve sits sullenly at the kitchen table, lost in his thoughts. He nurses his eggnog, most of it still remaining in the cup. I know that he must miss his mother around this time. I certainly miss my family, having to celebrate this joyous holiday without them is hard. I can’t leave him to sit at the table away from the rest of us all alone. I can’t stand to see him fighting on his own.

I excuse myself from everyone, claiming that I’ll start on the dishes. I have a lot of them urging me to stay and claim that they’ll help me, but I say that I need some time alone due to a headache. No one really argues and let me head to the kitchen solo. Steve acknowledges my presence when I walk in, but doesn’t say anything. He resumes his internal battle by looking back into his glass, fiddling with it.

I make my way to the sink, grabbing the soap and sponge to start on the dishes. I periodically check up on Steve to see if he has moved or changed demeanor. Nothing really changes for some time, and having to watch it breaks my heart. I continue cleaning the dishes, suds and bubbles accumulating in the water. That’s when I figure out how to at least distract him from his mind and hopefully get him to smile. Gathering up the soap bar, I vigorously rub it in between my hands. Once I have what I deem is enough soap, I make a loop with my thumb and forefinger. I turn to Steve with a childish grin on my face.

“Hey, Stevie. Look,” I say, catching his attention.

At first, he’s confused as to what I’m doing, and honestly, I think he’s thinking I’m crazy. Then, I blow into my looped fingers, bubbles freely floating through. I begin to laugh, looking over to him to see his reaction. Steve still looks unamused, but I can see him trying to hold back at least a grin. I wave him over to the sink, inviting him to join me. He shakes his head, but I walk over and grab his hand, pulling him to the sink. I place the bar of soap in his hands, doing the same thing I did to my own. I also gather up some soap in my hands.

“I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry that you are…” I start to tell him, placing the soap back in its holder. I look him in the eyes, seeing his distress, confusion, and desire to go back to sulking. “…but, it’s Christmas, and I have bubbles, and you can’t stay unhappy with those things. And even though we both don’t have our folks with us, I think they’d rather us spend Christmas acting like children and laughing till our stomachs hurt.”

Steve looks unsure, still upset. I can’t force him to be happy, not even with the things I listed for him. I at least tried to make it better. I almost lose hope, turning back to the sink to wash my hands and continue the dishes. That’s when a bubble floats by my shoulder, popping in my face. I spin around to face Steve with a surprised grin. He has a small smile on his face, shrugging his shoulders.

“Like you said, they wouldn’t want us unhappy at Christmas, certainly not when there’s bubbles involved.” He lifts his fingers again, blowing a bubble into my face where it pops, startling me. 

We both erupt into giggles. I do the same as he did, and before we know it, we’ve abandoned the dishes in the sink to blow bubbles with the bar of soap. I don’t know how much time passes, not that it matters. All that matters is Steve and I are in the kitchen blowing bubbles and giggling to ourselves. We don’t notice there’s someone at the door watching us, not until he clears his throat to get our attention. We probably look like children being caught with our hands in a cookie jar, which is evident on James’ face. He has an amused grin as he leans on the doorway of the kitchen.

“What the hell are you two doing,” he asks with a chuckle.

Stevie and I look at each other, both unsure of what to say. Then, we start to laugh. The soap bar then falls out of my hands, flying nearly across the kitchen. This causes Steve and I to laugh even harder as we both try to chase after it. Steve grabs a hold of it first, but since his hands are still soapy, it slips out of them. We’re laughing to tears trying to get the bar of soap off the kitchen floor. That’s when James steps in to grab it, putting it back in the soap dish.

Steve and I remain laughing, James eventually joining in because the whole situation is ridiculous. When we finally contain the laughter, I explain what was going on. James shakes his head at the two goofballs in his life, claiming no one else who’s sane would do this. I argue that he shouldn’t go around assuming people are sane, most of us are crazy. Steve, who’s is in better spirits, agrees with my argument, even though it doesn’t make sense and it’s silly. 

We clean off our hands, splashing water on each other as if the fun never stopped. Eventually, we get out of the kitchen, giggling and goofing around just like before. James follows us into the living room, baffled by the two of us. The family welcomes us back into the celebration. The rest of the night is spent in the living room telling stories and jokes. It’s peaceful and merry, as any Christmas should be.

Once the night is late, we all say our goodbyes and well-wishes. All of us are glowing, and leaving feeling full of love and comfort. James walks me home, Steve heading back with the rest of James’ family, Elsie and Henry trailing behind us. Elsie heads inside after saying goodnight to Henry, who in turn, says goodnight and “Merry Christmas” to us. 

As we stand in front of my door, I notice it begins to snow. The light catches the snowflakes as they fall. It’s truly magical, that is, until I look at James. There’s snow that’s collected in his hair, and the light creates a halo as it catches the snow. He looks at me with a soft smile, eyes full of the same feeling I’ve been seeing since we’ve been together, but this time it seems deeper. I smile brightly back at him, entranced by the moment we’re in. James reaches up to caress my cheek, bringing his other hand to hold the back of my head. 

“I’m so in love with you, it’s driving me crazy, Doll,” he whispers, the same emotion in his eyes and the delicate smile on his lips. My breath is stolen by his confession, and I pull him closer to me.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.” This time it’s said with more conviction, more emphasis. His eyes search mine, praying that I feel the same way, and I do. I do.

“I love you, too.”

James lets out a soft, nervous laugh. With the hand behind my head, he pulls me in softly, slowly. Then, he places his lips on mine, stealing my breath for the second time. At first the kiss is gentle, but once we both realize the emotion of the moment, it deepens. Our first Christmas together is a very merry Christmas indeed.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Summer of ‘39

There’s a saying that goes, time flies when you’re having fun. They weren’t lying, lemme tell ya. The new year is catapulted into an age of young love, romance, and dancing. January, February, March, April, May, and June. All of it gone in a blink of an eye. It’s all because of one James Buchanan Barnes. I mean, not that that’s surprising. He’s all I seem to have on my mind since I’ve met him. 

Oh.

And then there’s Steve.

This little shit is a headache and a half. Always in a fight, always getting beaten to bits. If he wasn’t already getting his ass kicked day in and day out, I’d kick his ass. Thank God I have medical training to keep up with all the cuts, scraps, and bruises he gets. I have to calm James down before I do anything, but in the end, Steve gets patched up like a mummy every time and then receives a lecture. I have to remind myself that it’s just his character, and it plays a big role in the future. However comma…I’m gonna fight him one day.

Other than that, there’s only art, books, and dancing that fill our days. Our big family also becomes the hub of our life. There’s always something happening somewhere. Between the Harris house, the Barnes’ house, Elsie and I’s apartment, and Steve and Bucky’s apartment, family is there. Elsie and Henry even join Bucky and I on dates at some of the local places that know us well. We try to live and love as much as we can, despite all the obstacles that come with interracial couples.

That leads us to now.

There’s talk of the movie The Wizard of Oz coming out and all of us want to see it. I want to experience what it’s like to see the movie when it came out, though I’ve already seen it in my time. It’s one of my favorite movies. The song Over the Rainbow has been the song of my entire life. My mom said it was playing when I was born, and it was the song that got me through basic training. Needless to say, I’m dying to watch it again. My story only encourages Steve and James to want to go, too.

When we arrive across the street from the cinema, I see the sign on the front door. Whites only. I must show my defeat because Steve grabs my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. James lets out an irritated sigh, but it’s not like we haven’t been through this before. It’s curious to see things like this. I’m not completely jarred. I mean, I’ve lived through times like this. It’s just disheartening.

“We’ll figure this out. C’mon,” James grumbles.

We run across the street, avoiding cars along the way. Then, Steve stops to tie his shoe when we reach the sidewalk. I wave James off, telling him I’ll stay with Steve. He runs off to go get the tickets, glancing over to us every now and again. It seems like Steve is taking a long time to tie his shoes, and then before I know it, James is back at my side with tickets, causing Steve to quickly finish. Then, they wrap their arms in mine and quickly pull me through the door. The entire time they’re walking in, they’re loudly laughing and making a scene.

“Did you guys plan that,” I ask breathlessly once we’re in the foyer.

“Sure. You can say that.”

Steve gives James a wicked grin. James returns one over to him. They look at me finally, mischief in their eyes. I decide I want to play along when I see the ticket clerk at the door of the theatre. I drop my handkerchief, apologizing for my clumsiness. The clerk isn’t paying too much attention to me once James practically shoves the tickets in his hands with a bright smile. He says something to him about me always dropping things or bumping into things. Steve is then pulling me through the door, thanking the man for his hard work.

Once we’re all in, we’re giggling to ourselves. We quickly find some seats as the commercials are rolling. We make light conversation, all of us excited to see the movie. Then, the opening scene comes up and the whole place goes silent. The nostalgia lights a fire in my soul. I feel like I’m connecting with all of my selves from the past. Both of the men beside me are enjoying themselves just as much as I am. It seems like suddenly it’s over and we’re out the door talking about the movie.

As we’re heading back, we’re joking about how we all pitched in to get me into the theatre. It seems like I’m with criminal masterminds half the time. Other times, I don’t know where they put their brains, but they’re clearly not in their heads. We agree to chat about it more tomorrow when I offer to make dinner at my apartment. I tell Steve that he should meet me at the park for lunch since tomorrow’s special is his favorite. This night is concluded, and the next day begins with work all over again.

James is supposed to be coming over for dinner, Steve said he’s tired and decided he wants to head home after work. It makes me worry about Steve being alone, but I try to give him the space he wants. Elsie is having dinner at the Harris’, so I suppose I don’t have to be too concerned about her wellbeing, though I am even still. I busy myself with making dinner so my anxious energy is put to good use, instead of stewing in my head. Music plays, as always, from my record player. I hum along to the tune, standing at the counter and waiting for part of the dish to finish so I can move to the next step. I pick at my cuticles, though James scolds me for it every time. He’s not here, so, whatever.

That is, until there’s an urgent knock at the door. When I open it, James is on the other side with a bloody nose and a bruising eye. This is violently familiar, but not from him. All of my anxiety, though heavily pressing on my temples, is pushed to the side as I pull him inside to get him the the dining table. I run to grab the first-aid kit and some clean towels to help clean the blood, warm water being run on a couple of them.

“Explain what the hell I’m looking at, Barnes, or so help me God…” I bite my tongue, frustration and fear threatening my tear ducts. 

He handles me cleaning the blood from his nose, and the bandage I place over the bridge of it. He doesn’t say anything as I mend the damage. Once I finish, I back away from him, throwing the towel on the table and placing my hands on my hips. He avoids eye contact for a few minutes, trying to come up with a response. Moments of silence pass before I get fed up, going back over to the stove to finish dinner. He mumbles something under his breath.

“What did you say,” I ask, turning to face him again.

“I pulled a “Steve.””

I stare at the back of his head, until he decides to get up and walk towards me. James groans to himself as he walks, rubbing his ribs. I pull him closer to me to inspect the problem, but he grabs my hands, pulling them away to get me to look him in the eye. James looks genuinely apologetic about making me worry, and I can never stay mad at him. I look down at his hands, the knuckles bruising and raw. I rub my thumbs lightly over them, looking back up at him and not holding back my emotions anymore.

“What happened?”

James huffs an exhale, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I’m sorry. Please, understand I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

I wait for him to explain himself. Sniffling a bit and wiping my own tears, I nod for him to continue. He rubs my arms comfortingly, nodding and trying to come up with what to say. He rubs his eyes, probably tired after a long day at work and dealing with whatever caused him to be in this state. James finally looks back to me once he’s gathered his thoughts.

“So, I was tellin’ the guys at work about us going to see ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ right,” he starts out, making sure I’m following. “They said they liked it, especially the fact that Judy Garland is a fine lookin’ woman. I said, she is, but that I wasn’t really interested. Obviously,” he continues to say, gesturing to me.

I nod slowly as I listen to him. I can already see where this is going. However, I want to hear from him what happened. He looks distraught about the whole situation, and I feel awful that I’ve put him in this position. I know what he’ll say about me worrying about all this, but I can’t help it.

“Then, they say, oh, right because you’re obsessed in that negro you met last year. And, I don’t know, I just lost it. No one talks about you like that. So, next thing I know, I punch him right in the jaw. We got into a bit of a fight, but ended up getting pulled apart. I gave him a piece of my mind, saying to never talk about you like that and that I love you. I even threatened him with fighting him again if he has anything else wise to say.”

I stare at him, not sure what to do with him. All I know is that I love this man with all of my heart. I’m convinced, especially now, that him and Steve do actually share a braincell. Just one, though. But, of course, I can’t get mad at them because they’re just so big-hearted and caring. What am I to do?

“Tell you what,” I start, taking a deep breath in the process. “Why don’t we get away from here? Go away for a bit and relax. What’d’ya say?”

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, I return one of my own. He nods, pulling me in for a hug, resting his head on mine. And as the night goes on, we plan about where we’re going and what we’re doing. I mention Newport and how they have a new creamery opening up, a place that makes some of the best milkshakes I’ve had when I was a kid. This brings up the topic of me being from a different time again. 

James says that he’ll talk to Steve and see if he wants to go. I tell him to pack him a bag anyway. Then, we say our goodbyes full of excitement and overwhelming joy. I pack all of my favorite things in my bag, even though my bag has always given me what I needed. I hardly sleep that night. I think of what we’re going to do and what I’d like to show them.

We’re able to borrow one of the cars that his boss at the shop owns. I somehow convince my own boss to let me have the time off. After we pack the car, we’re off and on the road. It feels surreal to be going home after all this time. Granted, it’s in a different time, but just to be going home is making my heart soar.

It takes a couple of hours before we’re finally in Rhode Island. We end up finding a place to stay by the water and have dinner in a diner close by. They ask me to tell them stories and show me around. I happily oblige, taking them everywhere. We go to the beach almost every day, y’know, when we’re not exploring the lines of my past in the future. We get milkshakes and hardly finish them. We take pictures and laugh at how carefree we feel. 

A break from our lives for once turns in to a beautiful thing. We bring home the sunlight and bright smiles. We tell everyone about the fun and the beach days. We show them the things we kept for remembering it later. For once, it feels like I’m home. I’m surrounded by people who have brought me so much joy and safety.

A jar of sand and seashells sits on the fridge at Steve and James’ apartment. A few of the drawings that Steve did are placed on the front, as well as some pictures I took with my camera. Yes, I took Polaroid pictures in a time they didn’t exist, but I couldn’t resist. There’s photos of almost everyone that I took with my polaroid. Everyone I love is placed on this fridge. There’s also the ticket stubs from The Wizard of Oz, postcards from Rhode Island, and other drawings.

I’ve built a whole world here. In this small, perfect little world, there’s love and hope. There’s family, friends, and memories to tell years from now. I still hold onto the hope that things will turn out differently now that I’m here. James has told me a thousand times not to worry. I’ve told him a thousand times that I’m not sure if I’ll be allowed to stay, the portal is just too unpredictable. At this he replies,

“Then, let me love you with all I am while I can. Let’s leave all of the worry and the possible futures for another time. Just love me. Right here, right now. Let tomorrow be whatever tomorrow is. Right now, we have this, and that’s all that matters.”

So, naturally, I fall and give in.


End file.
